


once - there was you

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based on the show only, CHAPTER TWO IS ONLY OUTTAKES, Daylighter Simon Lewis, Lazy Mornings, M/M, No Angst, No Climon, Non-Linear Narrative, Simon Lewis Lives at Hotel Dumort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12324054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: Once, he'd held a dagger to a boy's throat and breathed for the first time in decades. Trembling, fangs extended, body pressed against the boy's back. Breathing. Playing a dangerous game. Risking everything for a clumsy mundane.There have been many once's in his life.Simon by far is the most important in his afterlife.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatbloodyines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatbloodyines/gifts).



 

 

They talk as the sun fills the city with golden light, safely hidden from its rays under a quilt. Simon had brought it from home when he'd officially moved to DuMort and it hasn't left the bed since. That was nearly a year ago. 

He smiles at the excited catch in Simon's voice when he talks about comics and song lyrics he's been working on. The sentimental shade of brown in his eyes in the dark, in between sunrise and sunset. The near-to-bursting happiness pouring out when he says they're having dinner with his mother next week. 

"We'll bring wine," says Raphael drowsily. 

They should be resting but Simon is talking and talking and he's lying  _across_ the bed with his head on Raphael's chest - and he can't. Simon is a thousand metaphors for the sun and every word Pablo Neruda wrote. Some mornings he talks too much and Raphael doesn't want him to hush. 

"I don't like wine," he complains. 

"Blood then," Raphael teases, "Only the finest O negative for you. I'm sure your mother won't even notice the bags."

Simon plays along. "Why stop there? We can steal a blood donation vehicle...thing. A veritable buffet. Hi mom, sorry we forgot the wine and can't eat your potroast but if you could just ignore the _blood_ and pass the potatoes..." 

Raphael smirks and threads his fingers through Simon's hair. "Smoke and mirrors." 

"Sooo what kind of wine? They all taste the same to me."  

The elder vampire sighs. Who needs sleep anyway? Starving sleep deprived vampires make perfect dinner guests. 

* * *

 

Some mornings, he steals the quilt and grumbles at Simon to stop talking for godssake. 

"You can't have both," Simon complains and unravels a nearly naked Raphael, no longer curled up in a cocoon of warmth. 

"I can and I will," Raphael protests. An accelerated version of tug o' war is waged ruthlessly. Pillows and sheets are tossed aside in favor of fighting over the quilt itself and Simon moves too slowly a few times. 

He pins the younger vampire to the floor and their eyes meet, wild and heated. Nips Simon's bottom lip and the vendetta is instantly forgotten. 

* * *

 

Some mornings are revelations.

 

Raphael loved his mama once. Killed a man once. Prayed about it with blood stained lips. Kissed a girl at the soda shop once. Apologized for using too much teeth. Overthrew the clan once. Felt like a child tugging at his mothers dress in search of comfort. 

Once, he'd held a dagger to a boy's throat and breathed for the first time in decades. Trembling, fangs extended, body pressed against the boy's back. Breathing. Playing a dangerous game. Risking everything for a clumsy mundane. 

There have been many once's in his life. 

Simon by far is the most important in his afterlife. He took him in as a flighty fledgling once. Fell in love with him once, for the first and last time. Swore he wouldn't get attached but damn if Simon's ism's didn't lure him in.

Star Wars trivia should never be a turn on but God help him, it is. 

The point is: Simon belongs to DuMort and blood cocktails. To the downworld. He is, by extension, a part of Raphael that he cannot function without. When he's away from home, Raphael paces and drives everyone in the hotel to the limits with his worrying. It shows up as aggravation, agitation. He's useless. 

Raphael loved the sunrise once.

It gives him a sickening feeling now, knowing Simon can safely exist under it without him. There are places he cannot go. Times when he cannot protect him. They've somewhat compromised on it. 

 

 **This morning begins with a phone call**. 

 

"Clary?"

Raphael launches a pillow at the wall in frustration. Simon casts him an unamused look and goes on talking.

"Spellbo- Clary, that's Magnus's area. I know...what? Were we sleeping?" He snags a corner of the quilt from Raphael's clenched fist. "Kinda, yeah." 

The shadowhunters are inept. They can't seem to make it five minutes without landing themselves in trouble and begging the downworld to dig them out of it. Clary abuses her link to Simon repeatedly and it makes Raphael twitchy. 

Stabby.

Simon turns on his side and leans into Raphael's space until they're nose to nose.   

It must be obvious. 

He can hear the redhead going on about irrevocable spells, Isabelle and a drop of vampire blood. Everything is life or death to her. An emergency as opposed to a casual issue she could resolve herself if she'd actually try. 

Simon's lips brush over Raphael's. 

"...it won't take long," swears Clary. 

Again but with more pressure. Less chaste. 

"You know I wouldn't ask you for this if I couldn't help it. You're my best friend."

Simon licks the seam of his lips and Raphael, surprised but pleased at this turn of events, opens for him. It's a slow dance - how they meld into one another. Tongues caressing and tasting. 

"Simon? Are you there? What's that sound? Are you and _Raphael..._ "

Kissing? 

Yes.

She's known about them for roughly three months. She runs hot and cold acceptance wise and continues to wedge herself between them with shadowhunter emergencies and guilt laced whines about how she misses her best friend. This is usually the part where Simon gives into her. 

He breaks the kiss to answer and Raphael takes the opportunity to nibble at his throat.  Stay with me, he thinks.  The younger vampire glances down. Their eyes meet and hold. 

"I can't, Clary," says Simon quietly. He quirks a tiny smile, "I'm needed here." 

Once, Simon chooses him. 

"But  _I_ need you.  _We_ need you," she protests. 

"Magnus has a stash of samples from DuMort in the back of his fridge," answers Simon, "I'm not sure why and I don't wanna know but Alec can probably convince him to part with some." 

Clary huffs. "Fine, Simon." 

" 'kay, talk to you later," he says, unphased. Hits the end button.  "G'morning," he murmurs and drops the phone. 

"Good morning yourself," Raphael replies, reaching for him. 

When Simon bites into his throat and drinks, they both know it's a vow. Sealed in blood and devotion - he sinks his teeth into Simon at the same time. 

You, once.

You, always.

 

The sun floods the sky with light. 

 

 

 


	2. out-takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> self explanatory. each bullet is a separate fragment.

 

 

  * Had it been anyone else, they'd get the threat of a lifetime for touching his hair. It takes nearly 2 hours to style, you know. 



 

 

  * Simon says his hands are Raphael's kryptonite.



Raphael says his gravestone should've read,  _Here lies Simon Lewis who used one too many geeky references & died prematurely. _So what if he's right, Raphael still refuses to admit it. 

 

 

  * Just then, Simon shifts and nearly topples them from the couch, chuckles when Raphael huffs and mutters empty death threats. Simon envelopes him in both arms, swearing he'd shield them both from the evil treacherous floor. 



Sigh. 

He's in love with the world's dorkiest vampire. 

 

 

  * "Do you ever regret it?"



It's one of those mornings. The kind that make Raphael's heart hurt for all that has been taken from Simon. 

"Regret what?"

Simon shrugs and nuzzles into Raphael's chest, avoiding his eyes as he does when an issue is too difficult to address. "The whole," he gestures at himself, "You know, scary vampire guy thing? The...me being turned." 

"In a way," Raphael replies, trying to sound casual though that wound is forever bleeding. Simon tenses. "That's not what I meant. I don't regret _you_ but, Simon you could've lived a normal life. Attended college, had a cup of coffee without getting sick, watched the sunrise without turning to ash."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> a gift for you Ines because you've been so incredibly patient with me and I'm >thisclose< to having the prompt finished. it's taken ages, I apologize. 
> 
> also season 2 does not exist. it just doesn't.


End file.
